A Trip down Memory Lane
by Aldryne21
Summary: "Peruch..." Tony repeated this name in a whisper and cursed. A new victim leads to an old case. Tony-centric and OC. Rated T but I'm not really sure...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Familiar Faces

Ziva was giving him a deadly stare.

"What?", Tony asked, holding up his arms in ignorance, but he knew exactly what was going on.

She got up, went over to his desk and stood right next to him. He swallowed hard and looked up with his usual grin and innocent eyes. Her presence was unsettling, but not in a bad way.

She bent down, her face just inches from his and whispered "If you ever take anything out my purse again, you will wash up on shore without any teeth or fingerprints."

"So I can look, right?", he asked when she walked back to her desk and sat down. Another glare. Man, if these could kill…

"What did you do this time, DiNozzo?" Gibbs walked to his desk, not really interested in his agents newest antics.

"Em, I needed to cut something, boss, didn't think she would miss it… Right giving it back, on it, boss!", he added after yet another glare.

He rummaged though his drawers and found Ziva's pocket knife.

"Keep it, Tony, just don't cut yourself with it." Ziva sighted and smiled despite herself.

"Where the hell is McGee?"

"At Abby's, boss, she needed someone to do heavy lifting so I send down our valiant probie. As an Elf lord he already has the shining armor so…"

"DiNozzo!"

"Shutting up, boss!"

It took another thirty minutes before McGee got back and he looked ruefully at Tony.

McGee was about to say something he probably rehearsed during the move downstairs, but Gibbs' familiar "Gear up" interrupted his train of thoughts.

Tony looked at the crime scene. They were standing on a intersection in Alexandria. A large crowd already gathered just outside the taped area and he could see many curious faces starring down from the various apartments nearby. The body was lying under a large pine three.

Gibbs was talking to some LEO's probably debating their incompetence by the looks of it.

"McGee, bag and tag the evidence. Ziva, witness statements, DiNozzo…"

"Shoot and sketch, on it, boss.", he concluded and started taking pictures.

"What have we got, Ducky?", asked Gibbs.

"Nothing conclusive yet, Jethro, but I can tell you the lad put up a brave fight. There are numerous defensive wounds across the arms and hands. Mister Palmer, would you please be so kind in handing me the liver probe?"

"Just as I suspected", he continued after half a minute, "the poor lad has been dead for more than eight hours I am afraid."

"And that is bad, doctor Mallard?", Jimmy asked.

"Death is always a cause for grieving, mister Palmer, but in this particular case it means he didn't die here, what also explains the obvious lack of blood on site."

"DiNozzo, pictures!", Gibbs yelled, but Tony didn't react. He just stood there with his camera frozen in his hands, looking at the body as Ducky and Palmer were preparing to take it back to headquarters.

"Boss, why did they call us?", he asked after a few moments.

Gibbs held up a pair of dog tags as explanation.

"Boss, somebody must have lost their tags, because I know this man.", Tony continued, "and he is no marine, hell he never was in the army."

"Name says Petty Officer Noah Peruch."

"Peruch…" Tony repeated this name in a whisper and cursed.

Ziva and Tim realized something was bothering Tony. After his revelation that he knew the victim, they were kept out of the loop. He was staring at his screen and tapping his pen against his head. Gibbs was talking to the director about jurisdiction, probably, so he wasn't around to pressure Tony into giving more details. Neither Ziva nor McGee wanted to stir a sleeping dragon. He was most likely waiting for Gibbs to return…

Or not, Tony suddenly got up and went to the elevator, passing Gibbs without noticing him.

"Well, Anthony, normally it is Gibbs hurrying me along. What can I do for you, my boy?"

"The man from this morning…" Tony started, but was interrupted.

"Oh yes, the petty officer who is in fact not a petty officer, well it maybe a case of mistaken identity. This reminds me of the time I went to Bruges, a lovely town, and our guide was the spitting image of the current…"

"Ducky, I am most willing to listen to this story some other time, but I really need to know the cause of death."

"I am afraid it isn't that simple, dear boy, mister Palmer can you … yes thank you." Palmer gave him some x-rays.

"This poor fellow received multiple beatings, there was some extensive damage to the ribs and left scapula and this x-ray shows some severe head trauma. See these small fracture lines?"

Tony moved closer. "Would they have killed him?", he asked after a closer look.

"Not instantly, my best guess at the cause of death is hypovolemic shock caused by exhaustion and blood loss."

"Exhaustion?"

"I am afraid this poor man suffered several days, some of his wounds were already healing."

"Torture?"

"Most certainly and applied with the utmost scrutiny, causing maximum pain with a minimal of damage. It would have strained the heart severly."

"Pro's?"

"I believe so, but in the end these three linear stab wounds below the clavicle were fatal.", Ducky concluded, pointing at the deep cuts just below the collarbone.

"Thanks, Ducky", was all Tony said before he rushed out of Autopsy, almost bumping into Gibbs again.

"You know, Jethro, I believe you are rubbing off on that boy. He has gotten your whole monosyllable sentences down to perfection." Ducky said, before Gibbs could ask anything.

"That bad?"

Ducky nodded and Gibbs sighted.

He caught his Senior Agent entering the elevator and quickly slipped in as well.

"Wanna tell me what's bothering you?" Gibbs asked loudly, startling his agent in the process.

"Not really" was the answer he received seconds later.

"I only ask nice the first time."

"That was nice, dgeez, boss, you could have fouled me."

"So?" Gibbs flipped the emergency stop.

Tony sighted. "The man on Ducky's table is Frank Millers, an old school buddy of mine, sort of a wizzkid, computer freak like McGee. Don't tell him I called him a wizzkid, boss."

"Anyway", he continued after an infamous glare, "We go way back, but I lost contact after college. After an op I called in a few favors he owed me concerning a Nicolas Peruch."

"That's it?" Gibbs asked when DiNozzo didn't continue.

"Well, the rest was kinda illegal, boss, but if Ducky was right and Frank was tortured than that is bad, really bad news."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: forgot it last time, but I don't own anything, sadly…

And as you might have noticed, English is not my first language. I do apologize for any mistakes, this is also my first Fanfic, I'm very excited about this story, so please let me know what you think.

Flashbacks are in _italics._

**Chapter 2: The board is set**

Gibbs was standing in the elevator trying to figure out his agent's newest ordeal.

"Look boss, I will fill you in on everything considering the Peruch case, but right now I have to take care of some stuff at home. I'll be back in an hour, two hour tops, promise." Tony said and flipped the emergency stop, so they would continue their journey.

"One hour, DiNozzo and no excuses then or I'll put you in interrogation myself."

"As long as it is you and not Ziva I could live with that.", Tony answered with a weak smile. The sound of the elevator signaled his departure.

"And, Tony,", Gibbs yelled after a few seconds, when his agent hurried out in the direction of the parking lot, "Watch your six!"

"Will do, boss." Tony smiled back and nodded, before the closing doors pulled him out of sight.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, guess what I've found." Abby rushed to meet him and took the CafPow he was holding out.

"Abs."

"Okay, you don't like to guess, but a girl has gotta try right? It's not like you couldn't surprise me, I mean you did grow a moustache I recall and…"

Gibbs just gave her a stare.

"Right, evidence. Well, I managed to locate our Petty Officer. He's still alive and breathing, although he won't be too happy about losing his tags. I'm still working on the DNA Ducky collected from under our dead guy's nails, but hey I'm not finished yet." She blabbed out when Gibbs was about to turn around and pulled him towards the large screen.

"I've managed to get a partial print of these tags, which is kinda weird when you think about it, because they were left there on purpose. And when I ran it through AFIS I got a hit. Tadaa, you see?"

The picture of a middle aged man appeared on screen.

"Who is he, Abs?"

"Rafael DeMarco, son of the late Vincenzo DeMarco, head of a drug trafficking family in Baltimore several years ago. He was sent to prison along with his father and brother, Arthuro for fraud, money laundering, tax evasion. And that were just the nicer things he did. He was believed to have threatened a dozen of people, but the charges never stuck."

"Why, hell of a lawyer?"

"Probably, he got released a few months ago, but mostly because none of the witnesses made it to court. They either washed up on shore or are still sleeping with the fishes as Tony would quote."

"Good job, Abs."

"McGee, were did Tony run off to?" Ziva asked, while leaning back in her chair.

"Don't know, Ziva, but he looked a bit preoccupied.", McGee replied.

Gibbs walked in the bullpen again. "Ziva, McGee, I want to know everything there is to know about Frank Millers, Rafael DeMarco and Nicholas Peruch. Abby should have send you her findings."

"What are we looking at, boss.", McGee asked.

"Dunno yet, McGee." He just hoped his gut was wrong. He took out his cell. No new messages. He sighted. You still have 43 minutes, DiNozzo, before I drag you back in here, he thought.

After ten minutes McGee rose from his desk and clicked at the screen.

"Rafael DeMarco, one of the heirs of a wealthy drug family before he was sent to prison with… Oh, Abby filled you in already.", McGee interrupted himself when Gibbs made no attempt to stand up.

"Well, let me continue, he was released four months ago under certain conditions. He must attend an anger management class every week, which he does and now he works as an accountant in Arlington, a few blocks from his two bedroom apartment. His bank account checks out. Nothing hinky turns up so far, boss." Gibbs looks attentively at the screen.

"Except that his fingerprint turned up on the dog tags next to our dead guy.", Gibbs retorted.

"Eh, well yes, what brings me to Nicolas Peruch. He was one of the DeMarco men but turned on his "family" so to speak.", McGee continued, imitating quotation marks with his fingers, "They weren't really related…"

"McGee!"

"Sor…, right boss, Peruch was brave, but foolish and had quite a record of his own. Apparently he struck a deal and he himself was sentenced to three months. It took just 23 days and two attempts before he was stabbed to death in Maryland House of Correction, this was in 1999. He wasn't married and had no living relatives."

"Ziva?" She was already standing next to him.

"Frank Millers, 37 years old, lived in Colesville. He wasn't reported missing because he - and I quote one of his neighbors – had a longstanding relationship with his Mac, so he didn't do well in sunshine. Me and McGee should check the place out, right?"

"In a minute, what else have you found?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, McGee should check out his webpage. Half the things there are encrypted or something."

"They are just digits, Ziva."

"McGee, numbers are codes, okay?", she replied, annoyed by his interruption.

"He went to school at Ohio State for a few years and switched jobs regularly after that, at the moment he was unemployed, relying on his financial skills, which were above average." She clicked at the screen again.

"His bank account learns us that he had steady incomes from large investments in several firms, here and in China."

"The shady types?", Gibbs asked.

"Maybe, but nothing really out of the ordinary."

"So, a member of a former drug family and a former office clerk with computer skills.", Gibbs muttered.

"You two, go to Millers house and try to find out when he disappeared."

"What about you, boss, Tony isn't back yet."

"Going to talk to DeMarco, I'll take Fornell with me. He owes me a few last time I counted."

He wasn't sure why he didn't tell them about the victims connection to Tony. Maybe he was toying with the idea of invoking rule #38 again. His gut told him his Senior Agent would be up for the task.

Tony was worried. The name Peruch, jogged some memories but the details were a bit foggy. Not surprisingly, it was almost nine years ago, back in his first Baltimore days, that he heard that name.

"_You think you can do this, kid, of the record?" His captain was facing the window, anticipating the answer. "Because you can still back out of it, you know."_

"_I'm sure, captain, wouldn't know if I could live with myself if I did." _

"_Good, because we are counting on you. Now listen closely, this man,", he turned around and opened a file revealing a picture of a young man, "is Nicolas Peruch, a low life crook but apparently DeMarco's new golden boy. You get close to him, you get close to DeMarco, got it?"_

To catch Franks killer he would have to get the files of the DeMarco case. He was beyond doubt about their involvement. Luckily he had other reasons to keep those files close by or he would have been forced to drive to Baltimore to get the copies. And lacking Gibbs' driving skills, he wouldn't be back within the hour.

Just before he entered his street he sifted through his contact list and send a message. Neglecting the rear mirror for a few moments, he didn't spot the black car that turned around the corner.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Next Chapter! And beta'ed this time by divine529! Sadly it will take some time to upload the next chapters… I'm taking a long holiday !

**Chapter 3: The pieces are moving**

"What is it, Gibbs?", Fornell asked agitated after he was pretty much forced in Gibbs' car.

"I'm going to talk to Rafael DeMarco, know who he is?" When Fornell shook his head, Gibbs handed him the copies of what McGee and Ziva found.

"Ah, yes, I remember, it wasn't an FBI case but I heard about it. Long operation, smooth downfall and a few expected casualties, including the key witness. It was covered by all the newspapers at the time.", he said as he skimmed through the pages.

"We found his fingerprint on the crime scene this morning."

"And why am I coming again? Don't you have minions for this?"

Gibbs smiled and accelerated a bit.

"Ziva and McGee are at Frank Millers' house and Tony went home for some stuff."

"Mmm, you're not telling me everything, as usual." Fornell muttered.

DeMarco lived in an gloomy neighborhood. The apartment was a plain four story concrete building. A man was just about to enter his car, when Gibbs parked behind him and effectively blocked him.

He and Fornell stepped out holding their badge, before the man could make any threatening comments.

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS and Federal Agent Fornell, FBI. You are Raphael DeMarco?"

The question was a pure formality. The man standing before them aged a bit, maybe more than the eight years he spend in prison, but it was definitely DeMarco. He had the unhealthy appearance of somebody who lost too much weight too fast, nevertheless his eyes flickered for a moment with anger.

Still this moment past and a lesser investigator than Gibbs may not have noticed it, but it was enough to trigger his gut.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Tony unlocked his apartment, he was surprised to see that it was exactly the way he left it this morning. The late November sun was casting long shadows across his living room.

After carefully locking the door behind him he went straight to his bedroom. On top of his closet there were three boxes. He managed to get the left one down without the need for a chair. He took out the first file. It was a witness statement from Nicholas Peruch.

"_Tony! What are you doing? The boss said that he needed this delivered fifteen minutes ago!", one of DeMarco's men yelled._

"_Traffic was hell and you know it!", Tony answered. In fact he just came from his contact and needed to make a few detours in case he was being followed._

_A man stepped out of the house and looked at Tony attentively. _

"_And you're stalling him even more, Cooper. Let me help you with that.", he said and took two boxes. "Ah, this smells good. I'm Nicholas Peruch by the way, friends call me Nick, the rest call me Peruch and my father used to call me Nicolas."_

"_You're not going to tell me how you mother called you?", Tony asked sarcastically, "What a shame."_

_As an answer Nicolas Peruch just smiled back. "Follow me.", he said._

"_Hey, what do I call you?", Tony asked._

"_Haven't decided yet."_

On the bottom of the box lay a USB flash drive; he took it out. Well, let's go back, I still have twenty minutes, he thought.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What do you make of this?", Ziva asked when they entered Frank Millers house. "It looks abandoned."

The house breathed neglect and emptiness; there was dust everywhere and the view out of the window revealed a wilderness instead of a suburban garden. Ziva took pictures.

"No sign of forced entry and nothing looks to have been moved in the last months… McGee?", she asked when the expected response didn't come.

"Ziva, come down here!", McGee yelled. He was standing at the base of the stairs leading to the basement.

When Ziva got down, she saw why the neighbor on the phone told her about Millers' lack of sunshine. Artificial light displayed a strange sight. One wall of the basement was entirely covered by various computer screens and there were wires all over the floor.

"Wow, this is a very strong computer. I don't think he was just surfing the stock market. I always wanted one of those." He pointed to some kind of machinery Ziva didn't recognize.

"And I would have had to save every penny I earn for the next two years to get this equipment."

While McGee was admiring the hardware, Ziva was poking around some fast food leftovers.

"I found the most recent bill, I believe: pizza on Friday evening around eleven pm. That means the killer or killers grabbed Millers, they did it no more than four days ago."

"I'll call Gibbs and we're going to need another van to get everything back." He lifted the lit of one of the boxed; they were filled with disks.

"It is strange. He almost never left his home, ordered in and yet there is no indication that he was taken from here by force." Ziva concluded.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tony was feeling very silly at the moment. He was joggling his keys, the box and the flash drive while trying to open his trunk, when he heard footsteps. Caught off guard like a rookie, he cursed silently.

He turned his head around, still holding the box in his half opened trunk. His gun was hanging useless on his side.

"Let us help you with that, Agent DiNozzo."

"No need, I can manage.", Tony replied, but he knew it was futile to argue. The man on the left was pointing a gun, it was covered by a jacket, but Tony could see the barrel.

"You will give the box and your keys to my colleague here, but slowly." The man with the gun said, when the other one came closer.

Tony's brain was working in overdrive. He thought he recognized the men. He also noted that they used his name, so they knew him as well. He was most probably cornered by Frank Millers' killers, which would mean they needed information. He did the only thing he could think of. The flash drive was still in his left hand and he was sure neither of the men had spotted it, so he let it slip in the trunk before turning completely towards his unknown assailants.

"Jeremy, put those in the car as quickly as you can and come back, while I entertain our agent for a few seconds."

Jeremy closed the trunk, locked it and grabbed the box. After a minute or two he returned.

"Cell phone.", he just asked, holding out his hand. Tony sighted and gave up his phone.

"Now walk, Agent DiNozzo.", the man with the gun said and pointed to a car with blinded windows.

Tony looked over his shoulder to Jeremy. The man tossed his phone on the backseat and put the keys in the ignition.

"Get in."

He was chuffed inside, feeling the hard metal against his back. The man with the gun entered also and sat behind the driver's seat. Jeremy was probably their chauffeur.

"You know, guys, a road trip isn't exactly first date material and…"

A sudden blow on his head stopped his smartass comment from finishing. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness, he felt the engine start.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Down in headquarters Gibbs closed his phone.

"That was McGee, they haven't found anything helpful."

Both he and Fornell were standing on the other side of the glass, watching DeMarco closely. He still looked very comfortably and not the least worried. 'Amused' was the word that came to Gibb's mind concerning DeMarco's composure.

"What are you waiting for, Gibbs?", Fornell asked.

"DiNozzo should be here by now, he's running late." Again, he thought, I shouldn't have let him leave alone. He had no idea Tony was thinking the exact same thing.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Couldn't resist posting one chapter before my trip , hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing, just my own impulses…

**Chapter 4: ****A weathering mist… **

It was ten pm. Tony had been missing for almost five hours now and they reached a dead end. Gibbs, Ziva and McGee just got back from their sweep through Tony's apartment and while Gibbs headed upstairs to give an update to the director, Ziva and McGee sank down in their chairs with worried looks.

They knew they should get all the rest they can before Gibbs would return. Unfortunately the body can only rest when the mind chooses to cooperate.

Ziva was angry at Tony. Why did he do that? Run home without giving away the slightest information of why. He was acting like Gibbs on one of his bad days, going solo and leaving them in the dark.

She sighted, knowing she was only angry so she could cloud her anxiety and knowing it wasn't working very well. The apartment was clean, so the speak; there were no signs of forced entry, no cameras in the area, no witnesses. So they didn't even know when or where he went missing.

So she put out a BOLO; Tony's car was missing too, so maybe this way some leads may turn up eventually. And knowing Gibbs, he would order one the moment he returned.

Meanwhile McGee was starring at his screen restless.

"Ziva, tell Gibbs I went down to Abby's, she will need all the help processing those disks.", he said before he rushed out as well.

Ziva wondered how it was possible to feel so alone on a floor filled with people.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Agents Gibbs, may I introduce Mr. Greyer, DeMarco's lawyer?"

These words were never followed by something good. Fifteen minutes after the director had spoken them, Gibbs was still fuming with rage. No legit grounds for holding him, powerful friends and a lawyer who knew every loophole in the book, were sufficed reasons for the order to release DeMarco.

And his suspicions about DeMarco's involvement in Tony's disappearance were easily countered.

Of course the man had an alibi. He was in their freaking custody! The irony tasted bitter in his mouth.

DeMarco, accompanied by his uptight lawyer, smiled before entering the elevator, disappearing out of sight…

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Tim! These are lovely toys you brought me, but please tell me they are helpful tracking Tony down." Abby pointed to her table and a part of her floor, covered in shiny disks.

"Don't know, Abs.", McGee answered, "I came down to help."

"Yes! Team up, buddie, but first…"

Abby opened her arms. "I need a hug, Timmy."

"I'm so worried.", she whispered in his ears.

"Me too, Abs, me too." McGee sighted.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Where's McGee?"

Oh, Gibbs was in a foul mood, Ziva noted.

"He went to Abby, I think he got a little weary, boss. Any news from the director?"

Gibbs kept silent and began pacing.

"I put out a BOLO, no hits yet, I'm afraid."

"Ziva, call Baltimore and let them send over all the files, all the evidence, every tissue and former leads. I want to know everything and everyone that worked on that case. The two cases are clearly related. And tell McGee to keep working with Abby. If Millers was involved somehow he must have left a trace too. I want to know everything he did last Friday."

"Getting it done, Gibbs. What about DeMarco?"

"Pulled a few strings and left. Find out about his lawyer too. Never mind, I'll do that, just call Baltimore, ok?"

He sat down behind his computer. Ziva was eyeing him carefully.

If Gibbs was this loquacious then it was really, _really_ bad. Something was on…off, she autocorrected herself. Tony, get your ass back in that chair!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was quiet. He felt something soft underneath him at the same time he realized he was lying down on his back. Carefully he opened his eyes and lifted his head. A weak emergency light flickered constantly, showing a small empty room besides a sink near the door and the already bloodstained mattress he was lying on.

There were no windows and only one door, its handle had been removed and was tight shut. The flickering light was already starting to bother him.

His head felt fine, a little sensitive at his touch, but nothing he couldn't handle. Hopefully Gibbs would find him soon.

Checking his wrist he realized his watch was gone, as were his belt and shoes. He cursed and started pacing; five steps back and forth, back and forth, …

Good job, kid, you really screwed up big time. Not only did you left everybody out, you managed to get yourself caught. Gibbs is going to kill you and then Abby or Ziva and probably McGee too. Oh, they will just have to wait in line because…

His thoughts were interrupted by impatient footsteps coming towards the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ziva's phone ran and she almost jumped out of her skin. 'Must have dosed off', she thought before picking up.

"Yes, mmm, I see and what about digital records? Ok, just send what you have left then."

Gibbs paced into the bullpen again. His restlessness was tiring to watch.

"That was Agent Duncan from Baltimore.", she said before he had a chance to ask. "Apparently they had a water leak several years back…"

She paused, not for dramatic effect but genuinely dreading being the messenger.

"Only a tenth of the files were saved. They will be here by six o'clock."

"What!"

"A tenth of…", Ziva repeated.

"Got it the first time!", Gibbs snapped and then regretted his outburst a bit, still he was going to call Baltimore and give _them_ a piece of his mind.

"God, I need coffee… You want one?", he asked, almost politely.

Ziva nodded a bit overwhelmed. So Gibbs still has a few mood swings up his sleeve, I ought to remember that.

"Boss!", McGee ran into the bullpen panting. "We… Abby we… the car."

"You located his car?"

"Yes, here is the address." Catching his breath, he hold up a colorful animal shaped post-it.

"Grab your gear."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Fifty minutes later Gibbs was staring at the young guy sitting across him.

"I didn't do anything wrong! The car just stood there, key in the ignition, all ready to go. Okay, I did something wrong, steeling the car and stuff, but it was a sweet thing. It's not like I committed murder or something like that!"

Gibbs loved interrogating without saying a word, this kid was really fond of hearing himself talk apparently. A few glares and a carefully applied stare made him spill his guts.

"I spotted the car around four o'clock, it was such a sweet ride, just took it for a spin, didn't know it belonged to a missing cop!"

"Write everything you saw down.", Gibbs said while leaving the room. He heard the boy writing anxiously before he closed the door. Ziva was waiting with a Cafpow.

"You're going to let him sweat for a few more hours? Good."

"Found anything?" He walked towards the elevator and Ziva pressed 'down'.

"McGee is processing the car as we speak and I checked Tony's phone. He deleted all his outgoing messages. But Abby found something 'excitingly hinky', her words not mine.", she clarified quickly as Gibbs marched into the lab.

"Gibbs! This is so cool and yet frustrating at the same time.", Abby launched at them the moment the door opened.

She pointed to the screen. Digits were swirling across it.

"When I opened it the file name was 'ELYSIUM', don't know what it means, well I know what it means but not its relevance. Well, it is relevant, but I can't figure out _why_." She paused for a second and continued.

"It's very high tech. All the files are encrypted and my usual mojo isn't working.", she said sadly, "I paged Tim, maybe he has more luck, but frankly if we don't know the password then I think it's hopeless, boss."

"So you have nothing?"

"Don't say nothing. Tony was hiding something so classified I can't crack it! That something, right?"

She shouted those last three words at Gibbs back as he walked out.

"It tells me Tony maybe got into more trouble he bargained for, Abby." Ziva handed her the Cafpow, before leaving as well.

Abby turned her music up a few notches. "Come on, my babies! Lets crack this code and don't let Gibbs down again!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tony was missing for almost 24 hours now.

Abby and McGee were taking turns downstairs, flipping a coin every hour deciding who would get some sleep and who tried decrypting Tony's files. Currently McGee lost six out of eight times already and was pondering his statistical misfortunes while gazing at the green digits.

Gibbs and Ziva were sifting through the Baltimore case files, both noting the daring undercover op. But huge chunks were missing. Only the debriefing report from Tony and the witness statement from Nicholas Peruch were sufficiently readable to be of any use.

The strain of the long hours and the anxiety was taking its toll. Ziva repeatedly caught herself reading the same sentence over and over again. And next to Gibbs' desk, his trash can was overflowing with empty coffee cups.

"There's nothing helpful here, Gibbs.", Ziva finally stated, reading the witness statement for the third time. The last time she stared at Peruch's photograph for nearly ten minutes, wondering why the man betrayed his family and became the target of their wrath.

She turned to her boss. "Maybe I can check Tony's apartment again or our original crime scene? We could have missed something…"

But Gibbs wasn't listening, he was staring at the stranger that just entered the bullpen.

"Let my help you with that.", the stranger said while walking towards Gibbs' desk. He held out his hand, but when he didn't receive the acquired response, he tapped his visitor's badge.

"I'm Nick Straga, but in another lifetime I was Nicholas Peruch."


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Finally! Sorry I went on a long holiday… Hope you will enjoy! Usual disclaimers…

**Chapter 5: … and dead certainties. **

"_Did it really happen like that?", Tony asked curiously. He was leaning relaxed against the car. His whole composure breathed nonchalance; hands in his pockets, partly unbuttoned shirt. The hot August sun was baking the city and the long and boring wait for another delivery was turning into the perfect opportunity to get to know Peruch a little better._

_After their first encounter, Tony felt like he already figured the guy out; charming and easy-going, attentive to the boss and ridiculing the world as it passed by. _

_But after a while he had to re-evaluate this first impression; it felt like a well rehearsed role everybody was made, even forced to see, while Peruch kept his thoughts to himself._

_Slowly breaking through that brick wall in the last couple of weeks, Tony discovered he genuinely liked the guy. So when he asked his questions, he was personally intrigued as well when it came to Peruch's introduction to the hard way of the DeMarco's family. _

"_Did you really took a bullet for the boss?", he asked again when Peruch didn't answer immediately._

"_Well, no, if you put it that way. I didn't know who he was then. I just reacted."_

"_Sure you're not a cop? Jumping in front of a swirling bullet like that?" _

Cold water shredded the clouds of unconsciousness abruptly and brought him back to the reality of his current predicament. His sense of hearing was immediately aware of several voices across the room, although he couldn't hear what they were discussing. He recognized Jeremy and the man with the gun. Tony remembered his face, but was unable to recall the man's name. It was on the tip of his tongue, teasing his ignorance along with his stupidity of getting caught.

Stop it, he said to himself, self-reproach isn't helpful.

Nevertheless, one voice remained a mystery for now since the man was standing just outside the feeble beam of light that lit in the middle of the room. Here he was strapped to a chair; the chords around his arms and legs were already bruising his skin as he tried to move.

"Wake up, pretty boy.", Jeremy said grimly still holding the bucket, while water dripped to the floor. "The boss is here."

The man stepped into the light.

"Rafe DeMarco", Tony muttered and all the pieces fitted together.

"Let cut the crap, Agent Dinozzo. Tell me where you hid Peruch and I leave something for your friends to bury."

"Wow, that's generous of you, may I suggest that for future benefit, you ask these questions _before_ your friends hit me repeatedly on the head. I've been told that amnesia is a rather common complication."

"See? This is my point exactly.", Tony continued smirking after DeMarco smacked him hard with the side of his hand. He tasted blood in corner of his mouth.

"Make him talk. I going to make a public appearance just to make sure."

And DeMarco left without looking back.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back at headquarters Gibbs and Ziva were questioning Nicholas Peruch or Nick Straga as he liked to be called, in the conference room.

"Why are you so certain it's you they want and not Tony?", Ziva asked.

"I know DeMarco, if he wanted revenge on Tony he would go for the direct approach. Why going through Frank? I would even go so far in suggesting that he actually wanted to leave Tony out of it. He knows how obsessive the cops can be when one of their own is involved. He always was the spoiled little brat of the two, got frightful tantrums back in the days when he didn't get what he wanted."

"For Tony's sake, I hope those anger management classes worked.", Ziva added anxious.

Gibbs doubted it, considering the damage on Millers' body, but refrained from uttering his dark thoughts. For one thing, Tony was far tougher than Millers would ever be and even he lasted for several days.

"Did you know Frank Millers?", Gibbs asked.

"Only by name, Tony told me that he helped creating a new identity for me and Clara, but he wasn't very talkative about the details. He probably didn't even gave crucial information to Frank.", Nick answered.

"Clara?"

"My wife, Agent Gibbs, but that is another story, for another day. We should focus on the ones who took Tony. DeMarco didn't act alone. Can't you pull up the files of his old accomplices; the ones who went to jail and the ones who escaped prosecution?"

Gibbs shook his head in annoyance.

"Almost all the files were destroyed in the archives. Not even a tenth was saved.", Ziva explained.

"Agent Gibbs, with your permission I would like to assist you. Tony didn't leave any paperwork with me but my memory would probably suffice in filling in the gaps, at least in finding a useful clue.", Nick stated solemnly and the lighthearted man suddenly became very serious.

"Ziva, you take his statement. I'm going to check on Abby." And with these words he rose quickly from his chair. Just before he walked in the hallway he picked up Nick's comment.

"O boy, I would really want to see him in action in Interrogation. Tony must enjoy those moments immensely."

Gibbs made a mental note that this man really knew Dinozzo well and wondered how they ever got so close in those brief months many, many years ago.

"One question, Mr. Straga…"

"Please call me Nick, Agent David, I lack the stomach for these formalities."

"OK, Nick then, how did you know Tony was in trouble?"

"He send me a prearranged message, a simple 'Get out'. Years ago, Tony and I agreed not to have contact, unless in certain conditions. I received one letter from him when he changed jobs so I would know where to contact him if I ever stumbled on trouble. But yesterday he sent me that warning with his cell phone."

"But you weren't in the contact list."

"Yes, I am, but under a false name: Andrew Foulkes."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Abby, McGee!"

His sudden appearance made them jump to their feet; an impossible task considering they both were busy connecting wires under Abby's desk. Still rubbing her head and holding electronic devises unknown to him, Gibbs could see the dark shades under her disappointed eyes.

"We have nothing, Gibbs.", Abby said, "McGee tried every trick in the book, but we really need the password."

"Nicolas Peruch turned up, Tony faked his death so I'll send him down the very minute Ziva finishes taking his statement. They're reconstructing the missing files as we speak.", he said speaking fast so it would soften the surprise. A method obviously designed to fail…

"What!", Abby almost screamed it out and began to jump up and down wanting to ask the million question that popped into her head. McGee was equally surprised, but refrained from commenting until he fully grasped the consequences of this news.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You know what I think?"

Tony gave Jeremy a sympathetic look, saying _you can think?_

"I think", Jeremy continued, "that you keep this cocky and arrogant mask on so you can hide your fears… and you should." He approached with a small pocket knife. Tony recognized it as Ziva's.

"Really, genius? I'm normally always this charming when I'm bound to a chair facing sharp objects.", Tony retorted defiantly with a wide grin. The fist that followed wasn't unexpected, nor was the following darkness.

"_Peruch! Who was that fine girl back there? She's a beauty and by the sound of it, she put you in your place!"_

"_Hands off, Tony, she's spoken for and besides you're far too young to handle her."_

"_Oh, shut up, you're only four years older than me, give or take a few months. Besides I'm happy for you and me," Tony added, "because with you being in a fulltime monogamous relationship I'll have all the fun."_

"_You're absolutely horrible sometimes, you know?"_

"_But that's why you like me, isn't it?" Tony grinned widely and Nicolas could help himself. Soon they were discussing girls in general but Tony couldn't help but observe that Peruch wasn't acting like himself. The next couples of weeks weren't really exciting, so Tony noticed he didn't see the girl anymore and Peruch looked like an abandoned puppy when caught off guard, which rarely happened, but even then nobody else seemed to detect anything amiss. _


	6. Chapter 6

First of all I would like to thank all of you who put this story on Story Alert, it's really nice! And thanks to divine529 for taking the time to beta…

Disclaimer: the usual

**Chapter 6: Thinking aloud**

After just a few hours in Nick's company, Gibbs could see why he and Tony so easily connected back then. He had the same spirit hanging around him and the whole atmosphere in the bullpen had changed thanks to his presence; it was somewhat more hopeful and absolutely more defiant than a few hours ago. If somebody wanted Tony back save and sound more than his team, it would be this man.

Nick was talking to Ziva now and Gibbs watched her facial expressions. It was slightly amused as she was typing every detail that Nick pulled out of his memory, which was quite a lot considering most of the events took place nine years ago.

Nick was being his charming self, slightly flirting, but tasteful and unconscious and his stories were highlighted with a dazzling smile now and then.

God, she wished she could have been there, living the exciting tales he told her about; their quest against the DeMarco's, bringing down the organization from opposite sides of the line.

"Done with filling in the gaps?", Gibbs asked after another hour.

"I believe so, Agent Gibbs. Is there anything else I can do?", Nick asked.

"Ziva, you can take him down to Abby's. She's probably boiling with anticipation."

In the elevator Ziva couldn't help herself.

"Was there a reason behind your codename?", she asked curiously as she pressed the button.

"Tony gave it to me. When he enrolled his plan to ensnare DeMarco he told me we had to use false names. It was more fun and safer that way. So we formed our own little league. I was Andrew Foulkes and he was Percy Blakeney.", he explained.

Ziva gave him a quizzical look. Apparently Nick had thought his explanation would suffice, but Ziva had no clue what he was talking about.

"Sir Percival Blakeney, the Scarlet Pimpernel? Never heard of it? Strange.", Nick asked and continued his explanation, "It is a movie based on the novel with the same title. Tony showed me the black and white version. It made me see him in a different light. You should see it. I'm actually quite surprised he never showed it to you."

"How different?", Ziva asked with great interest. Although she was his partner and trusted him completely during difficult cases, Tony wasn't very talkative about his personal life. Of course, you had the long series of conquests of which he boosted frequently. Personally she doubted if all of them were real and not a mere fiction to tease Tim. But other than that, Tony didn't really answer direct questions about his life outside NCIS, he usually redirected the question with a no-good answer or a joke.

"The story is about an English gentlemen who portrays himself to the outside world and his wife as a brainless fop and a fool with no other interests than fashion and sports, but he is in fact the leader of a league who rescues innocents from the guillotine.", Nick told her, 'It's quite a nice movie, filled with daring escapes and a happy end."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He absolutely hated the waking up part. Those few moments of ignorant bliss weren't long enough. He was back in his cell. Jeremy obviously didn't bother lying him on the mattress again, so the cold concrete floor had woke him up. He was shivering. Dragging himself to the mattress, he flinched and grabbed his left side.

'Just look', he told himself, 'and you'll probably feel a lot better knowing what the damage is.' Carefully he unbuttoned the remainders of his shirt which, much to his dismay, was stuck due to the dried blood.

"Damn!", he cursed aloud, when he removed his shirt, ripping his wounds in the process. 'This isn't better at all!' Several hopefully shallow cuts decorated his side, bleeding slowly on the mattress.

He stretched out and tried to relax a bit. His pounding head didn't help however, nor did his throbbing jaw.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hello, I'm …" , Nick began.

"Yes, yes, living undead, something like that, whatever. Do you know how to unlock this?"

Abby pointed impatiently at her computer. Not quite as shocked by this abruptness as she expected, Nick drew near and gazed several seconds at the screen.

"What did you try already?"

"We ran several decrypting programs but none of them are sufficient enough.", McGee answered nervously.

"Tony never lets you take your guard down." It wasn't a question.

McGee nodded.

"Glad the world's still turning then. Okay, let me try a few passwords."

Nick held his fingers inches from the keyboard, obviously searching his memory, before typing. Then he glanced aside.

"How many times?"

McGee looked behind, but Nick was without a doubt staring at him.

"How many times what?", McGee asked after he made sure the question was directed at him.

"How many times did he glue you to something?"

McGee coughed while answering. Ziva tried hard not to laugh and Abby bit her lip and stared at the ceiling until the awkward moment passed.

"No worries, McGee, that just means he likes you.", Nick commented and smiled reassuring but it slowly faded. Now focusing on the task ahead, he typed several words, concentrating hard and sometimes closing his eyes to recreate the past Tony and his puzzling mind.

After a few tries a large ACCES GRANTED appeared on screen. Ziva, Abby and McGee realized they all were holding their breaths so now they sighted with relief.

"Tadaa.", Nick simply declared and stepped aside, out of the way of an excited Abby.

"It all there! Well, everything considering your disappearing act. If you weren't the reason Tony went missing, I would hug you right now."

"Abby, that not really fair and…", McGee shrugged apologizing to Nick.

"Well, you give him a hug then!", Abby interrupted.

"She's right, you know." Nick said to McGee, "About the reason part, I mean, not the hugging, no offense, McGee."

"Non taken"

"Will you all stop fooling around, so we can focus on finding DiNozzo.", Gibbs grunted while entering.

"Gibbs! He cracked it!", Abby blabbed out.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

After what seemed like a minute or so the door to his cell burst open and Jeremy stormed inside pointing a gun.

"Up."

"Longer sentences are probably difficult.", Tony said and when he reluctantly tried to stand, the room started to spin for a second or two until he steadied himself.

The gun was pushed against his ribs and he suppressed a scream, not wanting to give Jeremy any satisfaction just yet.

Now he could see how small the other room where he was questioned actually was; the journey to the center only took a couple of steps. The unknown man was already standing besides the chair and looked extremely agitated.

After he was certain Tony was strapped secure he launched his attack.

"Look, you miserable basterd, none of the files you were carrying contained any information regarding Peruch, so where is he?", he asked while pulling Tony's head back, revealing his bare neck.

A knife glinted in the scarce light. Tony could feel the edge pressed against his skin, feeling it move as he tried to control his breathing while the adrenaline rushed through his veins.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Okay, time for a recap. McGee."

Tim took the remote and clicked at the screen.

"Yesterday, I mean two days ago", he corrected himself after glancing at his watch, "Tony disappeared presumably from the parking lot at the back of his apartment. Our witness, the car thief, isn't very reliable, but he's quite sure he stole the car just before four o'clock because of a certain radio show he was listening too."

"At that time Fornell and I picked up Raphael DeMarco.", Gibbs interrupted.

"We can assume that he and two or three other guys are involved. My best guess is this man.", Nick showed a photograph. "Jeremy Sutters, he hasn't show up to work since last week, according to his angry boss. He was the power behind the brains nine years ago so he wouldn't have picked up Tony by himself."

"So, bad guy #3 is still an enigma, any ideas?", Abby asked.

"Ziva and I selected a few suspects we still have to check out, but I have this feeling #3 isn't one of them.", Nick answered.

"Okay, what about locations?"

"These are the locations of a number of know holding places and a few abandoned buildings near NCIS, Tony's and DeMarco's apartment. This mounts up to 39 possible places, but it still leaves out hundreds of locations.", McGee continued.

"I asked Fornell to keep taps on DeMarco. No strange behavior so far, went to his lawyer, then to diner and now home."

"What about Frank Millers? How did they get to him if he never left his house?", Ziva wondered aloud.

"Abby, anything on the disks?"

"Like a thousand files. I'm scanning them as we speak; it's been running for several hours so far, searching for certain keywords. It's faster this way, but I might miss something vital. Seeing the pics taken from his house and this data, I can tell for absolute certainty that he wasn't working strictly legal, to put it politely.", Abby explained while walking up and down in front of the screen.

"So maybe, by some freakish coincidence DeMarco or guy #3 contacted Millers for a job and somehow found out about his connection to Tony?", she continued unsure.

"That actually makes sense.", Nick agreed.

"No, it doesn't, we're missing the essence: _why_ did DeMarco believe you were still alive?", Ziva interrupted and looked at Nick.

"That something I've been asking myself repeatedly these past few hours. I honestly have no idea."

"So, somehow DeMarco finds out and then contacts Millers? That makes no sense at all. He didn't know where you were or under what name, so he probably hired a private detective."

"Go on, McGee.", Gibbs said encouragingly.

"But those are expensive, certainly for assignments like these. Is there someone from the old days who did stuff like that for the family?", McGee asked Nick.

"Could be, there was this one man, I think, can't remember his name. He almost detected Tony's cover once. I think he was a lawyer too…"


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: This chapter and the following will elaborate a bit about the undercover op, but from Nick's point of view. So it will contain some OC elements that will –hopefully- enrich this story a bit and the unknown characters. For those waiting for more Tony and the rest of the team, hang on for the following chapters! Hope you'll enjoy!**

**Chapter 7: Nick's story – Introduction**

_Ten years ago…_

Nicolas Peruch had never decided anything. He felt dragged into his life, watching someone else control his actions. The only places he actually felt something at all, were the back rooms of shady Chinese restaurants; he spent almost all his nights in them. His losses and triumphs at the poker table effectively blocked out any memories of his past life.

Playing the game he would forget the disappointing looks of his father when he was arrested – again- or his failure to pay the hospital bills –he squandered his lifesavings three months earlier- leaving his old man to die miserable. The funeral was the hardest part and while not entirely sober, he still felt the sting of all the disapproving looks in the church so he traded the graveyard service for another poker game.

With no money to pay his rent, let alone a decent funeral, he decided to take a loan from one of his poker buddies. A memorable funeral and tombstone was all he could do for the memory of the great man that had been his father. Not his best idea so far. His "buddy" wasn't the patient type, two of his "associates" already honored him a visit, encouraging him to pay quickly.

After that his landlady reached her limit and finally kicked him out, demanding his last penny to repair the furniture that broke during their "visit". And quite rightly so, Nicholas told himself. His life was going nowhere fast, actually it already arrived nowhere, it was now quickly turning into 'catastrophic'.

The day after his father funeral he wandered the streets of Baltimore, neglecting the falling rain, not knowing where to go next. His room was probably rented already and he couldn't face his "buddy", the poker table wasn't an option either, not after the showdown at his place earlier this morning. He felt the bruises under his soaked sweatshirt, the cold was actually quite comforting.

Everybody rushed by, carefully avoiding the puddles – and him- probably rushing home to a hot meal and a comforting bed. Just when he thought that his day couldn't get any worse, it naturally did.

The streets were abandoned now and the cold light from the lanterns gave no warmth at all. Suddenly two cars screeched through the street, the first braking suddenly slipping against a parked car in the process. The second car rushed by firing several bullets.

All this happened in a matter of seconds but years later Nicholas could still remember his thoughts which were 'oh shit, oh shit, are they fucking kidding me? Okay whatever...' Without giving it a further thought, he rushed to the first car.

"Everybody okay?", he asked urgently. An older man stepped out of the wreck, bleeding profusely from a head wound looking disorientated. Nicholas heard the second car turn and reacted instinctively pulling the old man down and covering him with his own body.

The noise of the gunshots was overwhelming as they passed by and he heard every hit, in the car and the concrete. He wanted to close his eyes and wish it would be over soon, but he didn't. He focused on the car and just when it passed he lifted the old man up and dragged him to a more sheltered spot; a small alley behind the parked car.

"It's going to be fine, trust me." He said repeatedly to the old man, keeping him aware of the surroundings so he wouldn't pass out.

A few minutes later the familiar sound of numerous police sirens surrounded the streets. The second car was long gone.

"You're bleeding.", were the first words the old man spoke with a coarse voice, simultaneously Nicholas spotted several paramedics on scene which was turning blurrier every minute; though it wasn't raining anymore.

He looked around confused as several hands reached out for him, but he didn't understand why. They needed to help the old man, he was feeling fine, he yelled, but the moment those words left his lips he felt them to be a lie. A tinseling sensation crept up his back and he felt himself sway with fatigue.

"Hold on, kid!" someone yelled while they gently pushed him on a stretcher. He tried to find the old man, but he was gone. Everything was so surreal and Nicholas felt his consciousness gliding away.

"Stay with us!", was the last thing he heard before he finally gave in to the comforting darkness.

_The following weeks…_

Those memories felts as surreal as that disastrous evening. He woke up in the hospital four days later with at least three doctors attending his every need and two gunshot wounds in his back. Apparently he saved a very rich old man, it was only later that he found out the old man was in fact Vincenzo DeMarco, the infamous and most successful mob boss of the city and it surroundings. All this was the result of the fact he never got caught.

The very day he woke up, the man payed him a visit, thanking him numerous times and promising to make it up to him. He asked Nicholas several question about his career, family and so on and they spent the next two hours talking until one of the doctors interrupted for which he was glad, because black spots were entering his vision.

The next day the man returned offering him a place to stay the moment the doctors considered him fit enough. He also stated that the debt was taking care of and Nicholas was lucid enough to notice the dangerous spark in DeMarco's eyes to conclude that he wouldn't be bothered any time in the future.

Two weeks later he was a guest in DeMarco's house and was introduced to a world he never dared to dream about. Filled with luxury and glamour, the shadow side was as deep as it could get and Nicholas felt the strong pull of the DeMarco lifestyle. So the moment his back was healed, he decided to quit his miserable life and become someone, even if that someone wasn't the nicest guy in town. After all maybe faith had finally spun his wheel in an upright direction. Little did he realize; that what goes up, most come down…

_Eight months later…_

"There's that pizza boy, what's his name? Uh, something De Luca?", Raphael asked Nicholas while they were watching a van arrive from their father's study.

"Tony, Tony De Luca, he's the cousin of Alberto De Luca, the restaurant owner on 3th street. Remember your dad asked us to keep an eye on him? Apparently, De Luca worries about the kid running loose and asked your father for a favor.", Nicholas answered grinning a bit. Asking a mob boss to keep an eye wasn't exactly very educational in his opinion.

"Yeah, I remember, don't know why I bothered, though."

"He also asked _you_ to show him around but if you're too busy, I can pick up your slack.", Nicholas offered, imitating quotation marks at the word 'busy'.

He knew Raphael would never live up to his father's image of the ideal son. Arthuro scored to high in that arena and when Nicholas himself joined the family unofficially some months ago, Raphael, or Rafe as he liked to call himself, took an instant disliking of him. The feeling was mutual, but Nicholas wasn't foolish. He knew a certain truce had to be made, even if it was an uneasy one. So he and Rafe rarely teamed up and it worked fine for both of him.

Arthuro, the big brother without flaws, as Rafe would call him sometimes, was more easily befriended. He was much like his father, diplomatic at one hand but ruthless when necessary. Rafe lacked the first quality which was replaced by his awful temper. Still, you didn't want to get in either one of the DeMarco's black book. He vividly remembered the retaliations after the shootout. Fortunately the streets were calm once more with at its center of importance the family stronghold.

"I'm going to have a look." Nicholas stated as he walked out of the office, his steps echoed across the grand hall as he swiftly descended the marble staircase. Rafe remained standing there, just staring out of the window.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: This chapter tells the story of the undercover operation from Nicholas' point of view and follows the same timeline as the previous chapter. For those who are waiting for a introduction of the old NCIS team, I hate to disappoint you but it wasn't my intention that Gibbs or any other character knew this from Tony's past, so they won't appear in this chapter. Hope you'll enjoy! **

**Chapter 8: Nicholas' revelation**

_A month later…_

"Come on, Clara, it's still me. Please, look at me." Nick begged as he gently hold on to Clara's shoulders trying to make her see his pleading eyes.

"You lied.", she whispered, but her tone resonated in his ears, it was filled with disgust and disappointment. Her eyes disarmed him even further when she looked up. Nicholas almost took a few steps back out of reach of her cold fury.

"I didn't lie technically, I just didn't tell everything about myself.", Nicholas defended hopelessly.

"Don't give me that bullshit, Nicholas, you didn't tell because you were too much of a coward! One of DeMarco's men? Unbelievable! Their criminals and you're one of them? Just drop dead!", she yelled and turned on her heels. Her long brown hair fell on her bare shoulders and Nicholas watched her leave in despair.

He sighted, deciding whether to run after her or not. Unfortunately he caught sight of Tony and quickly tried to regain his steady composure as he walked towards him. They talked a bit but Nicholas thoughts wandered off to Clara time after time, what he should have said or done.

The next days were filled with day dreams of her face but he didn't see her anywhere. The nights were just as terrible and he was happy enough to catch a few hours of blissful dreamless sleep. Strangely enough, he had no problem in keeping up his bravado. Nobody seemed to notice something off, like nobody had noticed Clara's presence in his life the previous weeks.

He didn't really know why he never introduced her to his family like he always did when he wanted to impress a girl. But Clara wasn't any girl. Three months ago he spotted her across the room in the Antique, a bar. She was drinking with some friends, but that first impression lasted, certainly after she blew him off after his first macho one-liner. Figures, that the one girl who didn't fall for all the glamour and fame, was the one he couldn't stop visioning at night. So he tried a different tactic, showing a more gentle, a more authentic Nicholas. It worked miraculously!

He spent as much time with her as he could without attracting attention to his absence. Instinctively he had always known he would never introduce her to Vincenzo or someone else from his background. At that very moment the first doubts arose in his mind. He just couldn't picture Clara and himself as one happy family with the DeMarco's. It felt wrong, even sickening, dragging her into his dark world. In truth, the fairytale ended a long time ago. His conscience was stirring at the surface like a dragon, clawing every time he did something he was certain Clara would disapprove off.

_Three weeks later_

The knock on his door was so hesitant that he was sure he imagined it. Still there she was, standing in his doorway. And then came the awkward moment. They just stood there, not looking directly in each other's eyes.

"Well, how have you been?", Nicholas started cautiously.

"Good, fine actually.", she answered.

"You know I…"

"I'm sor…"

"No it's not why…"

"Why did you?", Nick finished her confused sentence. "Come back, I mean."

"Can I come in?", she asked nervously. Nicholas was mind was racing with every possible reason why, but he stepped back to let her pass.

_Five hours later_

God, he wished he was as ignorant as a few hours ago. Clara's news was both a shock and a blessing; he was going to be a father. She only found out herself a few days ago and hesitated to tell him. Thank God she did, but hell, it was mighty inconvenient.

They talked for hours their future making plans and building dreams, before he dropped her off at one of her friends' house. After that he just drove through the city, not wondering what he should do, that was pretty obvious the moment she confessed she missed him so much, but _how_ he would do it. It was as if his life took another unexpected turn like the night he got shot, it was time to turn another page

Because Clara, no matter how much she loved him, gave him an ultimatum.

"I'm not going to raise him alone once you're part of this family and the way I see it you will either get yourself killed or arrested in the near future.", she had said tears welling up in her eyes. "I won't survive that, Nick."

"He, don't cry, baby, I promise I'll find a way out.", he had answered truthfully while gently caressing her cheeks, making the tears fade away. "You're my new family now, well you and the little one down here." He had kissed her belly lovingly.

Damn, he cursed silently but honked instead of screaming out of frustration. Unconsciously he had driven to Antique; 'a few drinks never harmed a man', he thought, just before entering.

Nicholas was staring in his third or fourth scotch when a familiar face caught his attention.

Great, he thought, there's that De Luca guy. Not that he disliked him, on the contrary, he felt rather brotherly towards the younger man, but he 'picked' this bar so he could think. It wasn't an usual DeMarco hangout, so what are the chances? This guy turns up everywhere it seemed. Maybe he won't see me, he prayed wistfully, but Tony already waved enthusiastically and went to the bar, returning with two glasses.

"Celebrating, Peruch", he asked jovially when he sat across Nicholas, "or drowning your sorrows?"

"I thought I told you to call me Nick, Tony, or did it slip your mind like the run I asked you to do?", he answered sounding very severe.

"Run went fine, better than your sorry attempt to dodge my question.", Tony retorted. "But if you don't want to talk, I can drink with you. It' s just…", and at his point he leaned in and looked at Nick attentively, "I've been watching you struggle with something."

Nicholas dodged that not so subtle little hint as well making Tony drop the subject or at least Nicholas thought he did. The night came as sudden as Tony's appearance, but he didn't notice, nor was he able to keep count of the times his drinking partner refilled his glass. Well great, more fog in my mind is just what I need.

Tony's bewildered expression revealed he apparently had said those last words aloud.

"I think you had enough to drink, Nick. Why don't I take you home?", Tony said surprisingly sober.

"Didn't that guy drink as much as me?", Nick mumbled under the impression he was thinking it again.

"No Nick, you had a head start remember? Come, let me help you get up.", Tony grinned and lifted him to his feet.

_The next morning_

The pounding headache was a sure reminder of the previous evening. And so was Tony's presence on the couch when he entered his living room.

"Finally back in the land of the living?", he said cheerfully and went to the kitchen while Nicholas slouched into a chair.

"Not so loud.", he muttered.

"Not entirely back then, anything I can get you?", Tony asked and sat across Nicholas at the kitchen table, putting a glass of water in front of him. "I could spike it with Tabasco if you want?"

"I hope that was a joke, Tony and I'm not in the mood.", Nicholas answered ruefully and steadied his head with his hands.

Tony was still sitting there anticipating something. 'I hope he doesn't except witty conversation', Nicholas thought. Slowly the fog on the events of the previous night cleared up.

Suddenly Nicholas rose up. "I'm not dead?", he asked confused remembering the foolish thing he said in the car the night before. _"I want out, Tony, screw the DeMarco's."_, it resonated in his already challenged head. Normally this should have been an instant dead sentence or at least earn him a trip to the docks. Rafe would have been so pleased if he heard, probably would have shot me himself. And yet, I'm still sitting here, waiting for breakfast or lunch? Nicholas glanced at the clock, while trying to gather his thoughts.

"No, big boy, you're still alive and breathing.", Tony grinned, "So you remembered that, anything else pop out of that talkative brain of yours?"

Nicholas was sitting up now, eyes wide open.

"You! And I… we made plans for… for…", Nicholas pointed at Tony, but the last part was still a bit vague.

"Wrong, I said we would make plans when you're mind wasn't drowning in scotch.", Tony answered. "And is it clear now?"

"You're a cop." It was a simple conclusion that lifted Nicholas spirits immensely. He found a way.

"We won't get far with you repeating everything you said.", Tony said. "But yes, you're right, again."

"Detective Tony Dinozzo, Baltimore PD, pleasure to meet you.", he added solemnly holding out his hand.

Nicholas understood immediately that this was a crossing road, which walked on unwisely might prove to be a dead end.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Time to turn the page permanently **

**Three months later**

"Greyer, you sly dog, what makes you turn up in my city again?", Vincenzo asked impatiently.

"Mr. DeMarco, I held and still hold your family in the highest regards and…", Greyer started moving uncomfortably in his chair.

"I only agreed to this meeting because my son,", he gestured a little unnecessary at Rafe who was standing in the doorway, "asked me to, but my time is precious and your past actions do not enhance my patience, so cut to the chase, Greyer."

Nicholas couldn't help but smile. Rafe looked just as uncomfortable as Greyer when his father wasn't even looking at him. Nicholas was sitting very relaxed on one of the brown leather sofas placed against the wall, eyeing the scene in front him with growing interest. He didn't know Greyer himself but he heard stories. Apparently Greyer used to be one of Vincenzo's trusted employees but pulled some kind of scam - it was rumored with the help of Rafe - but it failed and he ended up owing the DeMarco's a ton of money; a debt for which he payed in full with interest, but it destroyed his reputation and use for Vincenzo forever.

"Yes, sir. I've found reason to believe that a cop has infiltrated your organization. There have been rumors around the court house. DA Jeffers was practically boasting of this once in a life time opportunity of putting you behind bars. So I did some digging, called in a few favors and the thing is, there is a mole in your family. So I would like to run backgrounds checks on all your employees who joined in the last two years."

At this Nicholas unconsciously got up, but restrained himself in time. Unfortunately Rafe saw it.

"That would include me."

"Hiding something, little brother", Rafe asked sarcastically.

"Well, yeah my self esteem, I don't mind if it was really necessary, but I do mind this cockroach looking into my personal files.", Nicholas answered.

"Nicolas has a point, reason isn't proof. And I need a little more from you than just your solid word. Regrettably you forfeited that right a while ago. So I bid you a good day Mr. Greyer, I trust you can let yourself out."

When Rafe was about to protest, Vincenzo got up, thereby ending the discussion before it even began. Greyer got up as well and left fast with his tail between his legs, but he shot Nicholas a murderous look.

"Nicholas,", Vincenzo said, "Can you give me and my stubborn son a moment alone?"

Nicholas nodded and calmly walked out. The fight that followed was one of the worst in the DeMarco household. Nicholas could hear Rafe yelling from across the house and after another ten minutes Rafe drove off in a heated temper.

"Mental note: keep in mind never to get him so ticked off.", Tony added when he and Nicholas watched Rafe drive away, almost hitting the fence in the process.

"Not funny, Tony, I hope your cover proves to be a solid one. Rafe and this Greyer guy aren't going to leave this alone. Rafe needs to prove his father is wrong.", Nicholas said, looking anxious.

"Relax, we have gathered enough data already to put them behind bars. Clara is safe. And in a few days we'll unplug this whole thing and go home.", Tony reassured his friend.

Nicholas tried to relax but there remained an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach which didn't go away. He had yet to find out how naïve Tony's assumptions really were.

**Four months later**

The preliminary hearing for the trial finally came to an end and Nicolas sighted.

"All these cops and costumes in one room, not exactly my way of spending a pleasant afternoon.", he whispered to Tony who sat right next to him.

"Tell me about it, I would trade this for a dangerous car chase any day.", Tony answered. From his tone Nicholas could see he was joking but his facial expression begged to differ.

"I spoke to my captain again.", Tony continued while everyone got up and headed for the door, "But he refused, flat-out, said I was a witness myself and needed protection until after the trial."

Tony sighted. Nicolas knew how much this fact bothered his friend. When they pulled the plug Tony had promised Nicolas that he would be one of the agents assigned to Nicholas for protection until after the trial and even try to make Nicolas transfer to witness protection as easy as possible, but his superior refused. They already had two major arguments about it, but apparently Tony had decided to go for round three.

"And then when I said he couldn't control where I went, he said that he did and now I'm grounded! With two policemen posted in front of my door!", Tony exclaimed indignant. "Their probably rookies."

Nicolas couldn't help but smile at this comment, considering Tony wasn't a veteran himself. But he could relate, he too was bound, so to speak. The restless ache as a result of doing nothing was reaching its boiling point now that the end was near. He felt it wearing him down. The agents that were guarding him weren't unfriendly, but they weren't Tony either. They didn't feel the need to share information considering his welfare, so he felt like a puppet being dragged from safe house to safe house.

"At least you can sleep in your own bed.", Nicholas tried to comfort Tony.

"Yeah but I'm probably not allowed to invite someone. Damn, this is going to cramp my social life."

"What social life? You were undercover for months."

"Exactly my point, I've got a lot of catching up to do and a couple of babysitters outside isn't very attractive."

The following days of the trial weren't very promising. The cases the police build up for Vincenzo and Arturo were very solid, even bulletproof, since Nicholas and on some occasion Tony, had been a eye witness, but Rafe was another matter. All they had was circumstantial evidence, which wasn't enough for a long-term conviction.

"I can't believe it.", Nicholas said on the fifth day during recess, "He's actually going to get away with it." He was walking up and down the narrow hallway in front of Tony who sat on one of the wooden benches.

Tony sat in silence, probably thinking the same thing.

"And I'm forced to see him walk away! Just like that! While I'm sitting here in this monkey suite instead of being with Clara, man, I wish I could end this the old fashion way, just him and me.", Nicholas spoke with force.

"Easy there, Scaramouche.", Tony answered, "It could still work out fine."

But Nicholas heard in Tony's voice that he didn't believe it himself, not anymore.

One the final day Vincenzo and Arthuro were convicted for life. Nicolas felt a pinch of guilt when the judge read their sentence. From a point of view, his point of view, Vincenzo wasn't a bad person. In what way was he any different from him?

Tony obviously saw his discomfort. "Nick, it's just some freakish variant of survivor's guilt, it will pass.", he reassured Nicholas.

"A year ago I would have shot a rat without questions, just because Vincenzo asked me too and now I'm one myself."

"Just pray that he doesn't have any more bullets up his sleeve.", Tony said worried.

"Oh, I'm not worried about Vincenzo, I'm worried about Rafe.", Nicolas said. From where he was sitting he could see Rafe shooting murderous glances in his direction, while Vincenzo and Arthuro feigned his nonexistence.

**Three days later**

He should have seen it coming. He should have known better. Damn, the agents that were protecting him should have known better, he thought. They all had let their guard down now that the trial came to an end and the DeMarco's were locked away. How wrong had they been!

Nicholas was lying on the ground now, breathing heavily and felt the pool of blood under him expanding. In the corner of his eye he saw agent Dunn and agent Jenkins starring at him with blank eyes. He tried to grasp the events of the past minute.

They never even had a chance once the door was broken down. Agent Dunn was dead before he hit the ground, hit in the head. His brain splattered against the crème colored wallpaper. Nicolas and Jenkins reacted on instinct, trying to overpower their assaulters. There were four maybe five masked men, he couldn't recall. He knew he grabbed a gun and just shot. The flashes and shots turned the room into chaos and in the end Nicholas had sunk down, exhausted realizing he was hit as well.

He could hear his heartbeat, the only one left in the room, while the ceiling above him seemed to spin around. He coughed violently, tasting blood, feeling blood trickle trough his stone cold fingers when he grasped his chest in vain.

"Clara…", he mouthed barely making a sound, "I tried…"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Don't own the show and sorry it took so long, hopefully you will like it and for those who it might concern, this is one of the last chapters!**

**Chapter 10: Catching up…**

"Nick?", Ziva asked.

"Huh, what?", he responded blandly like he was waking up from a long past dream.

"You kind of zoned out on us.", Abby continued.

"Did I? I...", he started while rubbing his eyes. His head was spinning now all the pieces were finally falling together.

"You said DeMarco went to his lawyer?", he continued swiftly, "This lawyer, his name is Greyer, isn't? Tony is there! It's the only place that makes sense."

"McGee, Ziva, with me.", Gibbs said and was out of the lab at a remarkable speed.

Nick remained standing there, eyeing their departure with a wistful look.

"Oh, go ahead and try, you idiot.", Abby said not unfriendly and turned her attention to her computer screen once more, searching for information about Greyer's property that could help the team. "Good luck."

Unfortunately the team was already halfway back to the elevator when Nick reached the bullpen.

"Agent Gibbs, I'm going with you.", Nick stated and blocked his path; Ziva and McGee subconsciously held their breath.

Gibbs gave him one of his finest scowls and gazed at the man before him. Far braver men would have stepped out of his way in an instant.

Nick just stood there for a second or two before he added a muttered please.

"Get in the damn elevator and don't waste my time.", Gibbs decided.

"McGee, give him you reserve vest and if asked… you did not get this from me." He handed Nick a gun. Ziva smiled despite the seriousness of the situation. Finally they had sprung in action; they were getting Tony back, hopefully in one piece…

Still, the disturbing image of Millers' torn body was a constant companion and the ride was a silent one, only interrupted by McGee talking to Abby or the honking of the other cars as Gibbs drove at lightning speed through a busy intersection, ignoring the lights as if they merely had a decorative purpose…

"Boss, the FBI reports that DeMarco entered Greyer's house half an hour ago. They're parked outside within save distance."

"Tell them to clear the way without attracting suspicion and are not to take any action until we're there."

Ten minutes later, with one screeching sound the car came to a sudden hold and simultaneously everybody got out, arms ready.

"Not you, you stay put.", Gibbs said, pointing to the car, when he saw Nick following them.

"Oh, come on!", Nick pleaded frustrated.

"Stay."

Nick sighted and sat back down. He watched as the team entered the house. It was on a quiet street, deserted even with old worn down trees, whose leaves ALREADY lost the hopeless battle against the autumn gales.

Nick looked at his borrowed gun once more. It felt strange holding one again, but somehow it felt familiar too. The back seat wasn't that interesting so he climbed to the front, watching the house carefully. He found a 'NCIS' cap and tried it on, just to distract this nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach.

xxxxxxxx

The sounds were slower, more muffled when Tony woke up. He was still strapped to the chair, with no idea how long he blacked out this time. He felt like he was under water. Behind him two guys were talking, but everything felt distant; almost surreal. 'This can't be good.', he thought, 'Focus! Snap out of it!' He coughed, which hurt like hell. Right, the man nicked him with a knife.

"… the feds… car… get out…" Vaguely he picked up these words. The blackness was pumping behind his eyes. He just wanted to lie down and sleep but then he heard the word 'NCIS' spoken in a frantic tone. Someone came running down the stairs.

The shock wore off instantly. Jeremy, DeMarco and that third guy were arguing aloud.

"We need to leave now!", Jeremy said nervous, but the other two were clearly ignoring him.

"Are you certain the feds backed off?", the third man asked.

"Yes, Greyer, absolutely.", DeMarco said. Tony had a 'so that's his name' moment but kept it to himself, not wanting to attract any attention to him being awake.

"Then we should leave.", Greyer stated, but DeMarco let out a frustrated howl.

"Not now, I _need_ Peruch's dead body _here_!"

"I think we should…", Jeremy started but a quick "Shut up!" from both men made him crawl back in his shell.

"I'm leaving, Rafe and I don't suggest we stop your desire for vengeance, just postpone it for a while, until the dust settles."

"No!", DeMarco yelled, "I want Peruch's location!"

Tony felt himself in the middle of the action again when he heard the sinister clicking of a gun next to his ear.

"Now, sleeping beauty, one last chance…", DeMarco said coldly, while placing his gun just above Tony's eyes, " or I'll redecorate this basement."

But before Tony could utter a word the loud sound of screeching tires outside made everybody jump into action.

xxxxxxxxxx

When the team entered the house it was the silence that struck them the most, making them tiptoe the place, scanning carefully for any lively presence.

It was McGee who noticed that the door leading to the basement was slightly ajar.

"Boss!", he whispered as loud as he could. He pointed to the door when Gibbs and Ziva turned around the corner. Somehow their easy entrance made him feel very spooked. He did not want to reach the bottom of those stairs.

Still silent Gibbs went down first, followed immediately by Ziva and McGee. The atmosphere changed rapidly while they were descending with the cool air and the sound of dripping water as their companions. Ziva imagined Tony making a lighthearted comment about some low budget horror flick like _'always better on the save side of the screen' _orsomething similar to break the moment. This was a trait that bothered Ziva on occasion, but at this moment she sadly realized they needed that from time to time.

They reached a small dark room with a chair pinned in the centre. There was only one other door…

Suddenly it opened and everybody raised their guns. Gibbs stood in the middle with Ziva on his left and McGee on his right. Tony was pushed outside, gagged and bound with his hands behind his back, shielding DeMarco and his henchmen from a fatal exit.

"Back off, Agent Gibbs, or I'll blow his brains out", DeMarco said calmly, pressing the cold metal against his agents neck.

Gibbs mind was racing, what he feared finally had come to pass. Next to him he heard Ziva moving uneasy as well. He knew she was a good shot, but right know he needed to get Tony out unharmed. She couldn't shoot three guys simultaneously, nor could the three of them together, not without endangering Tony.

Tony waited for the verdict, but there was nothing he could do that would make his boss decision any easier. Nevertheless, he tried to catch Gibbs eyes and say _'it's okay, if you can't win, change the board'_.

Gibbs' gut didn't protest when he slightly lowered his gun, still armed and ready but less hostile. Ziva and McGee reluctantly did the same.

"DeMarco, if you hurt my agent I will hunt you down.", Gibbs said while slowly backing up to the wall, allowing them to leave with Tony.

One final look at the fiery glow in Tony's eyes as he was taken upstairs still shielding DeMarco from any surprise attack, couldn't help him doubt his decision. Would this be the day he would be proven wrong?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

What took them so long? Nick was getting very nervous, tapping the steering wheel and checking his watch every few seconds.

It took too long, something must have gone wrong…

After another minute he promptly got out of the car, checking his gun again, counting the bullets. If he was going to disobey Gibbs, he probably should do it armed, Nick thought with a grimly smile that faded quickly.

He sneaked to the house and hide himself next to the open door, carefully looking for any movement.

He heard stumbling on the stairs and was about to reveal himself, when a glance of the first man's back make him retract his steps. Holding his breath he returned to his hide-out kneeling down just to be save. DeMarco and Greyer were talking loud, either discussing their precarious situation or their lucky escape. Nick cautiously peeked through the window right of him. He saw Jeremy locking a door and then saw Tony all bruised and bound.

'A plan, a plan, think of a plan!', he thought anxiously as he heard them approach the door. His hands became clammy and his heart raced like hell.

"Come on!", DeMarco said and a muffled scream almost made Nick yell out as well. But he needed to keep his cool.

'Clara, I hope you'll forgive me.', he thought before he raised himself from his humble position and blocked the exit.

"What the hell!", DeMarco almost jumped out of his skin. A flare of recognition lit up in their eyes as Nick shook off his cap but it was too late.

"Missed me?", he asked casually and pointed his gun at DeMarco's astonished face. Tony and Nick looked at each other and then, as if it was thoroughly rehearsed, Tony ducked to the floor, unbalancing DeMarco's aim in the process. All three men swiftly redirected their guns to Nick but he was faster and a moment later, when Gibbs, Ziva and McGee broke down the door, the room subsequently exploded with gunshots.

After all the noise the room went silent again. Gibbs and McGee had been forced to retreat to the stairwell and Ziva had to jump behind a couch.

"Ziva, you okay?", Gibbs asked when the shooting had stopped, carefully reentering the room with McGee close behind him.

"Yes, Gibbs."

The chaos in the room was complete, everybody was lying on the floor which was covered with glass, debris and blood.

"Tony? Are you with us?", Gibbs asked worried while he untied the hands of his agent. "Just hold still.", he added when Tony wanted to get up. Ziva and McGee kneeled down as well.

"Boss, Nick, is… he… okay?", Tony asked with a coarse voice. The door was wide open, but there was no Nick to be seen. The cold October wind blew a few leaves inside, piling up the chaos.

"Nick!", Tony yelled when Gibbs didn't reply and tried to crawl to the door, but Gibbs held him back.

"Boss, I'm fine!", he added angrily.

But the doorway remained empty…


	11. Chapter 11

**Epilogue: … and letting go**

Even when the sun shines, cemeteries are an eerie place, but this one was the real epitome in the morning fog. In the middle of all the tombstones a solemn priest was tediously reciting the bible while shivering relatives and friends gathered around, handkerchiefs and umbrellas ready, expecting the worse.

The cold wind made them huddle even closer together, a black spot in the whirling white mist. A women was leaning her head on a man's shoulder while silent tears rolled down her beautiful face. The man's grief couldn't be measured in tears but the emptiness and maybe even guilt in his eyes were just as powerful.

A few rows back a man was overlooking the service from higher grounds. He was standing in front of a weathered tombstone and although it was quite cold his black jacket was wide open, a testimony of his nonchalance.

He kept observing the service, even when another man joined him on his watch. After a few more minutes the service came to an end and the party left quickly. Finally the first man cleared his throat and broke the gathering silence.

"That could have been me.", he said.

"Yeah, I know, things like that make you modest, I guess."

"How do you deal with the knowledge that you could get killed every day?"

"I've a will."

"Don't joke."

"Okay, I don't think about it, I'm currently applying my denial tools."

A small grin appeared on the first man's face and blew his hands in an attempt to chase away the cold.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Well, I kind of hoped you would have been there for my grand escape of the white halls, but Gibbs told me you left suddenly. So I guessed you came here and he was kind enough to give me a lift."

"Sorry about that. I wanted to see this place before I left."

"And when exactly does your plane leave?"

"In three hours."

Both men were quiet for a while. It was the silence of old friends when everything was already said except the inevitable goodbye.

"You should come by more often, you made quite the impression on the boss.", Tony said while adjusting the bandage around his neck.

"He slapped me on my head and told me I was an idiot.", Nick retorted casually. Tony chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, come to think of it, you should watch out. Next thing you know, he tells you you're the most irresponsible fool he ever saw and offers you a job." He smiled and continued. "But seriously, when did that happen?"

"Oh, you were quite out of it. McGee was summarizing your old case and concluded that it was very clever of you that you faked my death which resulted in you repeating the word 'clever' over and over again, like thirty times or so."

"Thirty times?", Tony asked in disbelief.

"At least, after the head slap I lost count.", Nick reassured. "Nobody told you? They're probably going light on you. Just wait until the next time you call Tim McFluffy or read Ziva's mail, Abby filmed it."

"I should be going, Tony. Clara is expecting me home and Jake probably grew an inch."

"Sure sounds like a great kid.", Tony said.

"You should visit us this Christmas, Clara ordered me to ask you and you know she doesn't take no for an answer. And now that I met your family, I want you to meet mine."

"I would like that very much."

"Great, but now am really leaving, just thank Tim again for me, if it wasn't for his vest, I would have had a hole here instead of a bruise.", Nick pointed to his heart.

"Will do, Foulkes, will do."

"Good bye, Blakeney, and this time, see you soon.", and with this Nick left, taking the morning mist with him leaving the cemetery basking in a shy sun.

Tony lingered for a while, watching the entrance where Nick disappeared in a cab and Gibbs was honking impatiently.

He sighed, breathing the invigorating cold air. Nick was right, it could have been him. When Nick further asked how he dealt with death, he lied of course. Every time a case hit home hard or after every close call, he would come here.

Gibbs finally got out of the car. He saw Nick leave but Tony wasn't showing any rush. He sighed, he could see Tony's pensive look from afar, but didn't want to intrude. If Tony wanted to talk, his door was wide open, literally.

With one final glance on the tombstone, he left, hoping his next visit was scheduled in the distant, very distant future.

The epitaph was slowly fading, but wasn't engraved in stone alone.

_Eadem mutata resurgo_

A/N: "Eadem mutata resurgo" means "Although changed, I shall arise the same." It's an epitaph from the mathematician Jakob Bernoulli (1654-1705). I thought it was very appropriate in Nick's case…


End file.
